


you've labelled him safe

by mydetheturk



Series: Hidden Care [5]
Category: Tron - All Media Types, Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: M/M, Sam is a Sweetheart, in which i describe a panic attack, so I guess don't read if you're triggered by panic attacks, so that's a warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-18
Updated: 2012-10-18
Packaged: 2017-11-16 13:25:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/539912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydetheturk/pseuds/mydetheturk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're not entirely certain what he said, but it caused you to look up and over at him</p>
            </blockquote>





	you've labelled him safe

**Author's Note:**

> Ad again I spew otp on a poor unsuspecting [](http://l490war.tumblr.com/post/33570665249>gif</a>.%20I%20should%20stop,%20and%20I%20should%20stop%20being%20mean%20to%20poor%20Ed...%20Oh%20well.)

_You’re not sure exactly what he had said, but it caused you to look up and over at him. You’re not entirely certain why you lick your lip, but you suspect that it’s because of the look he gives you when he realizes you’re not actually working. It’s a mix of heat and lust and adoration and want and pride and you can’t look away. You take a short breath and say his name, and those eyes of his - those clear, stunning eyes - lock on to yours and you’re caught breathless. You can barely breathe as he steps ever closer to you, focused on you, only you. You stare back, wanting him to do something, anything. You don’t care what that something is, you simply care that it happens. Then you can’t_ breathe _and you’re trying to suck air into your lungs and it isn’t working and then his hand is on your shoulder and you jerk from it, not wanting to be touched. You’re shaking and you don’t know what sparked it and his hands are back on your shoulders and he’s telling you to breathe in and out and with him and you_ can’t _and somehow you manage to suck in a lungful of air and he lets go and is whispering encouraging things and you lock on to that and let that be your world in that moment, his breathing is calm, collected, not like yours - a million miles an hour and barely showing signs of stopping. You haven’t had an attack this bad in a while, and where normally you’d shut yourself away for a couple of hours, you can’t really boot_ him  _when he’s right there, talking you through it, helping you when you can’t focus, can’t see straight. You finally make a motion that he can touch you, and he pulls you into his arms, right where you can actually match your breathing to his, concentrating on the calm up and down motion._

_It’s not until you’re in your apartment - in_  bed  _even - that you realize that for some unknown reason, you’ve labelled him safe._


End file.
